


Chocolate and Lavender

by TintagelCastle



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: AU where lollipops are a thing in 18th century France, Awkward Flirting, Chocolatier Stanley, Dick is Bro of the Year, Floral Miscommunication, LeFou and his Amazing Purple Trousers, M/M, No one cockblocks like Gaston, Oblivious LeFou, Someone help Stan he's trying his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:22:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TintagelCastle/pseuds/TintagelCastle
Summary: “Wellthatwas suave.” Dick observed, raising a lollipop Stanley was certain he’d swiped from the stall when his back was turned and licked it. Stanley turned away.“I don’t know what you mean. How long were you stood there?”“Yes you do and long enough.” Dick replied smugly. “You make moon eyes so much it’s a wonder we unfortunate bystanders don’t start spouting poetry when we get in the way.”Stan's a man with a Plan. Shame the Universe seems intent on working against him.





	Chocolate and Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> Well, considering I've been lurking like some sort of shipping goblin in this tag for a few weeks, I thought I'd try my hand in it. I've gleefully chucked in most romcom cliches known to man so this is a total cheese-fest. 
> 
> I have no idea if lollipops were an actual thing in 18th century France. 
> 
> My tumblr name has changed if you wanna come say hi to me! It's now 'redrose-comes-a-marching' :)

Wednesdays were Stanley’s favourite days. 

Wednesday’s were the major market days in town, with stalls set up for people’s most luxurious produce to be put on display. The tailor set out racks of richly embroidered fabric in front of his shop to catch the eye. The baker set up tables of hot fresh rolls and loaves so people could follow the wafts of aroma to his wares. Even Monsieur Potts got in on the action, displaying his most recent batch of plates, along with some more intricate vases and pots for those wanting to treat themselves to a more extravagant purchase. 

Stanley worked for the town chocolatier, Monsieur Fontaine, and Wednesday markets were always a sure way to get their table swamped with the local children spending their pocket money and other villagers that wanted a little midweek treat. Villeneuve wasn’t a _rich_ town by any stretch of the imagination, not like the finer cities like Paris or Rouen, but they got by. Fontaine’s Confectionary definitely did well for itself and Stanley never regretted taking on the apprenticeship for an instant.

Wednesdays were also a day to see LeFou. 

Not that Wednesdays were the _only_ day to see LeFou mind you, no Stanley saw him practically every other day at the tavern but Wednesday market was a chance to see him without being attached to the hip of _wonderful, perfect Gaston._

Stanley always felt an immediate stab of guilt whenever he thought less than polite thoughts about Gaston. After all, the man _had_ protected the village during the war, keeping them all safe practically single-handed. Gaston was a hero, Stanley couldn’t deny this. And he could see the appeal. Gaston was handsome, confident and strong, his skills with the bow and rifle keeping the town well stocked during winter months when food became scarce. Tom and Dick had nothing but praise for him too, dragging Stanley with them when they accompanied him on hunting trips. Stanley frequently told himself he didn’t have any particular reason to _not_ like Gaston, not really. 

Except the fact Gaston’s world only had room for two: Gaston and Gaston’s Colossal Ego.

Stanley routinely marvelled at LeFou’s talents for keeping Gaston focused and steering him out of many a guaranteed fistfight with unhappy boyfriends and fathers of whatever lady Gaston had his eye on that week. LeFou always made sure Gaston’s world ran smoothly whilst keeping himself relatively unseen. Stanley was never sure whether LeFou kept himself small or whether it was Gaston simply eclipsing him at every turn. When LeFou was on his own however, he goddamn _shone_.

Or maybe he stood in the sun and Stanley had to squint. Either or. 

The delighted squeals of children brought Stanley out of his musings and he returned to the task at hand, smiling and handing over small bags of truffles and candied violets and whatever other sweet things they had their eyes on. If Stanley was a little over generous and tipped more into their hands than their money could technically buy, nobody had to know. 

The children chorused their thanks and ran off, laughing and comparing treats. Stanley watched them go and laughed a little to himself. 

“Did I miss something?”

Stanley started and looked over to LeFou, who was also watching the children with a small smile on his face. The children liked LeFou, he was their go-to storyteller. They liked his silly voices and songs. Stanley grinned.

“I was just wondering how long I can go before a parent complains that I’m rotting their little angel’s teeth.”

“Forever I’m sure, they eat carrots and cabbage every other day of the week, I’m sure a dose of sugar is good for them.”

Humming an amused affirmative, Stanley turned to face LeFou fully. He looked good today. Not that he didn’t _always_ look good, but the spring day just seemed to agree with him. 

“What can I do for you today?” Stanley said, slightly regretting the powdered sugar on his sleeve. LeFou surveyed the stall for a few moments before looking back to Stanley. He pointed to a small mound of white chocolate cubes on the left.

“Fudge?”

“The very best.”

The transaction was quicker than Stanley would have liked, though he attempted to make it linger with some small talk. It wasn’t easy. LeFou had no family left from the terrible plague that swept the nation about two decades ago so there could be no enquiries about them. They mostly talked about plans for the day. LeFou was going to the tailor’s to see if he could get some new breeches as his were wearing a little thin. Stanley, in his infinite social wisdom, told him lavender was a good colour. 

“What about you?” LeFou asked. Stanley shrugged.

“Not much, once the market’s over I’ll go over the takings with Monsieur Fontaine. Then Tom and Dick will probably drag me to the tavern. Same as usual.”

“Hm, doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Will you be there?”

Stanley could have kicked himself. Subtle Stan. Great. 

“Probably,” LeFou mused, scratching his chin idly, “Gaston will want to.”

Stanley nodded, ignoring the slight sinking feeling in his stomach whenever LeFou mentioned his favourite person. 

LeFou handed over his money and turned to go. Stanley’s hand shot out and closed around something on one of his stands. “Wait!”

LeFou glanced back, a look of polite bemusement on his face. Stanley held out whatever it was he had picked up and opened his hand. “Take it. M-My treat.”

It was a little rose coloured sugar mouse. It sat in his palm, gazing up with little liquorice drop eyes. LeFou stared at him.

“Sorry?”

“Take it,” Stanley repeated, inwardly praising himself for keeping his hand from shaking like a fucking champion. “With my compliments.”

LeFou was steadily turning pink. Stanley was pretty sure he was doing the same if the flood of heat in his face was anything to go by.

“A-Are you sure?” LeFou asked uncertainly. “Won’t Monsieur Fontaine be angry with you giving things away?”

“Nah.” Stanley said confidently, praying that his smile was charming and carefree and _not_ the frozen awkward rictus it felt like. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” 

LeFou ducked his head, smiling widely. 

“Well, thank you.” He beamed, accepting the slowly melting lump from Stanley’s hand which, thank God, wasn’t sweating. 

_“Okaythenseeyou!”_ came LeFou’s squeak and he turned on his heel and hurried away among the crowds. It was a good few seconds before Stanley realised he was still holding his hand out like an idiot. He put it down quickly, busying himself with his apron. He caught sight of Dick leaning against the stall and jumped.

“Well _that_ was suave.” Dick observed, raising a lollipop Stanley was certain he’d swiped from the stall when his back was turned and licked it. Stanley turned away.

“I don’t know what you mean. How long were you stood there?”

“Yes you do and long enough.” Dick replied smugly. “You make moon eyes so much it’s a wonder we unfortunate bystanders don’t start spouting poetry when we get in the way.”

“Where’s Tom?” Stanley asked, not wanting to dignify that statement by acknowledging it. 

Dick sauntered around into Stanley’s line of sight, the stick of the lollipop bouncing with every step. “Around. I wanted to see how your stall was going, excuse me for walking in on your flirting.”

“I was not _flirting-_ ”

“No you’re right, you’re shit at it.” Dick crowed, pilfering another cube from Stanley’s table and popping it into his mouth. Stanley picked up the trays and moved them out of Dick’s reach, lightly slapping one of his hands and it tried to reach past him. 

“Right _thank you_ for that. But you know as well as I do it’s impossible.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at him, chewing on the lollipop thoughtfully. “And why’s that?” 

Stanley sighed. He knew Dick was just trying to get him to talk and he ought to just tell him where to stick that lollipop. Ever since Stanley had told Dick and Tom of his preference for men they’d been incredibly accepting. He knew some of the villagers didn’t share their view but he knew his two friends had had _words_ with people about it. He could cry with gratitude sometimes, he really could. It was just that in their acceptance came their bloody _meddling_. 

“You know why.” He said bitterly, unable to stop himself. As long as LeFou thought the sun shone out of Gaston’s arse he didn’t have a hope. 

Dick must have come to the same conclusion and nodded. “Then try harder.”

Stanley gaped. “What?”

“Try harder.” Dick repeated, as though it was the simplest thing in the world. “You think I got Adaline to marry me by sitting around all day? Nah, I had to work for that girl and it was the best thing I ever did. Flowers, gifts, bad poetry, the works.” 

“Poetry.” Stanley deadpanned. It was public knowledge that LeFou had never had the money or the time to learn to read, having joined the army cadets soon after his family’s passing. Poetry was out of the question. 

“He doesn’t have to read it, you could….I dunno, perform it.”

Stanley would rather walk around the village square naked than embarrass himself like that. “No.” 

Dick stuck his tongue out. “Flowers it is then.” 

Stanley paused in his efforts to tidy the stall. “You think that would work?”

Pulling a face, Dick waved after where LeFou had gone. “Look, Gaston might be the manliest man to ever walk the earth, but let’s not kid ourselves here. LeFou is…well, softer. Flowers will work just fine.” 

Stanley continued his work, adjusting piles and adding more if he needed to. He smiled to himself a little, thinking over Dick’s words.

He had a plan.

**  
“I thought you said you were going to give him flowers?”

“I am Tom. They’re over there. See?” 

Tom frowned at Stanley over his tankard of beer. Dick shook his head in frustration.

“We meant _in person_ Stan.”

“It will be in person eventually!”

The two other men groaned and took gulps of their beer. Stanley didn’t know why they were being so incredulous. His plan was amazing. He had left a beautiful bouquet of roses and sprigs of lavender by LeFou and Gaston’s table by the fireplace before LeFou even got there. There was no note as LeFou couldn’t read it, but it was placed closer to his chair. From his vantage point by the bar Stanley would be able to see LeFou’s confusion, surprise, and then his joy. _Then_ next Wednesday at the market, Stanley could clear up the mystery of the flowers to LeFou. _Then_ , he would _really_ lay on the charm.

This was the best plan. 

“This is the best plan.” He declared to the other two, who looked doubtful. 

Sure enough, Gaston swung open the doors to the tavern, answering the immediate loud greetings that met him. LeFou slipped in behind them; there were significantly less cries of welcome for him. He did, however, wave a friendly hello to Tom and Dick. When he saw Stanley he ducked his head a little, raising his hand in a greeting before hurrying after Gaston. 

Dick wolf-whistled softly under his breath. Stanley kicked him under the table. 

Gaston continued to chat with some of the other tavern goers (Stanley saw the triplets were swooning already, god help them) as LeFou picked up their tankards and took them to their usual table.

Stanley straightened in anticipation. Show time.

LeFou paused as he caught sight of the flowers, slowly putting the drinks down. He glanced about him in confusion, frowning slightly. Stanley watched with bated breath as LeFou extended a shaky hand to touch one of the roses, his fingers running lightly over the petals. The frown on his face deepened for a fraction of a second before clearing. Stanley felt his chest do a funny sort of flip flop as a smile broke out of LeFou’s face.

“Gaston!” He called out cheerfully, waving the bigger man over. “Someone left flowers for you!”

Oh, no no no no no _fuckedy fuck NO._

Gaston swaggered over to the flowers, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. LeFou excitedly pushed the bouquet over to him. Gaston’s laugh was loud and booming in the small tavern, bouncing off the walls and ringing in Stanley’s ears.

“Must be from one of my admirers!” He guffawed, clapping LeFou on the shoulder a little too roughly. LeFou beamed up at him and motioned for him to sit down.

Stanley lowered his head slowly and thumped his forehead against the table so loudly some of the people nearby turned to look in confusion. 

**  
Autumn slunk away and winter began to creep into Villeneuve’s bones. Monsieur Fontaine gave Stanley leave to join the others on one of Gaston’s many hunting trips for winter. 

“Can’t survive on fudge alone.” The old man joked. 

The all gathered by the town’s gates. Gaston lead the party into the forest, saying that any quarry they did catch could be put into a little cart that trailed behind LeFou’s horse.

“LeFou can catch us some vegetables, he’s good at that.” Gaston laughed as they drew further into the forest. Laughter rippled around the small group and LeFou gave them a tight smile. LeFou didn’t like killing things.

Stanley thought sometimes that Gaston enjoyed it a little too much. 

As the day wore on LeFou’s cart got fuller, with Gaston obviously bringing in the most bounty. Stanley felt he didn’t do too badly; a few unfortunate rabbits were his contribution. LeFou had discreetly looked away every time a bloodied carcass was dumped in the cart, despite Gaston’s jeering. At one point Gaston had simply told him to be more of a man and had given LeFou a light slap on one cheek. It was a gesture of friendship, Stanley supposed, as he had seen people do it to each other before with no real malice in it. That didn’t stop his hand tightening on his horses reins though. Dick had shot him a look of sympathy. 

They began to head back to town as the sky got darker and Stanley fell behind the others where LeFou’s poor pony was pulling their load from the hunt. LeFou smiled thinly at him. 

“You did well today.”

“Gaston did better.” Stanley pointed out, nodding to the carcasses. LeFou hummed in agreement. 

“True, but you still did well. I can never bring myself to shoot anything.”

Stanley let out a soft laugh. “That’s because you’re a good person LeFou.”

“Y-You’re good too Stan!” LeFou gasped, flapping his hand awkwardly. “I didn’t mean, I’m not-”

“I mean it.” Stanley said, cutting off LeFou’s stumbling words. “You’re a good person.”

“Oh, no Gaston is _far_ better than me-”

“Just take the damn compliment LeFou.”

LeFou went bright red in the face and kept his eyes resolutely on the others in front of them. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“Sorry.” 

They glanced at each other and both broke into giggles. Gaston was recounting some old war tale to the younger lads in the group that were riding with them at the front. Judging by the rapt looks on the boys faces, they were hanging onto every word. 

“It didn’t quite happen like that.” LeFou said quietly beside Stanley.

“Hm?”

“The story he’s telling. It didn’t happen quite like that.”

Stanley blinked. “I didn’t think for one moment that it did.”

LeFou darted a look his way, but didn’t elaborate further. For a while they rode in silence, Gaston’s story washing over them in the twilight air. 

“He’s thinking of getting married.” LeFou piped up again suddenly. Stanley whirled around to look at him so fast he swore something in his neck clicked. LeFou was watching Gaston, something sad colouring his face.

“He is?!” Stanley couldn’t imagine an actual sane woman putting up with Gaston’s ego for more than three months, let alone a lifetime. Gaston was handsome sure, but handsomeness would fade eventually. Unlike LeFou, in his rare moments of being _himself_ , Gaston had no _substance_. Or, he did, but it was hidden beneath the surface and could be unpleasant if unearthed. 

LeFou nodded. “He wants to marry Belle, you know, the artist’s daughter?”

Stanley did know. Belle was an uncommonly beautiful – if a bit odd – girl. She had been born in Paris, they said, and was unapologetically intelligent. He could see why Gaston would consider her a prize. 

“She’s a lovely girl, bit weird of course.” LeFou was saying. Stanley heard a layer of dejection running under the words.

“But-” _But what about you?_

LeFou had feelings for Gaston, plain as day. Stanley felt sometimes that like his feelings for LeFou seen by everyone _except_ LeFou, LeFou’s affections were seen by everyone save the one they were directed at. 

It wasn’t fair. For either of them. 

“Well….good luck to him.” Stanley said, a safe option. LeFou smiled. He looked at Stanley and Stanley felt a little prickling of hope under his skin. He cleared his throat.

“Erm, LeFou….uh, would you like-”

“LEFOU!” Gaston called out, “Hurry up your goddamn pony will you? We’ll lose all our gains in the forest if you don’t keep up!”

LeFou bolted upright to attention in his saddle. Stanley frowned at Gaston. He had to be psychic; it was the only explanation for his expert fucking timing. 

“On my way Gaston!” LeFou called, spurring his horse on faster, shooting Stanley an apologetic glance as he rode on. 

Stanley sulked the entire way home. 

**  
LeFou was coming to the shop more often. Which was nice.

He was coming alone. Which was _amazing._

They were passing through entire conversations without mentioning Gaston once. Which made Stanley feel like he could fucking fly. 

One day he came into the shop with a bundle in his hands. Monsieur Fontaine had gone home for the day and had left Stanley to it. He was stacking up some new rich chocolate cubes they’d made that day when he came in.

“LeFou!” He cried, wiping his hands absently on his apron. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

“No, sorry.” LeFou said, his cheeks flushed like he’d just run here. “I, er, wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised.” Stanley laughed. “Pleasantly so.” 

He held up a cube of the dark chocolate. “Care to try?”

LeFou laughed. “I shouldn’t, this place has given me extra padding already. Keep this up and I’ll need new clothes fitted!”

Stanley tutted and waved him off. Unthinkingly he laughed, “Don’t be silly you’re perfect.” 

“What?”

“What?”

LeFou stared at him with wide eyes and Stanley mentally replayed the last few seconds, spiralling into terror when he realised his slip. He blanched, stumbling a few steps away from LeFou. LeFou continued to stare, his mouth hanging open slightly in shock.

Stanley’s brain reeled through every possible way he could try and talk himself out of this mistake. He could try and laugh this off, LeFou would laugh this off, they could both laugh this off and Stanley could go throw himself in the duck pond later when nobody was looking. 

“I, hah! I, er, sorry I just meant….um.” _Oh my God Stanley just think think THINK._

“You’re perfect too.” 

Stanley froze. It was his turn to gape and stare. LeFou, for his part, was crimson in the face and turning the package over in his hands. The sounds of the town were muted beyond the door of the shop. The rustling of the wrapping paper the only sounds aside from the pounding in Stanley’s ears. He must have misheard. Those were words LeFou bestowed on Gaston, amidst many others; those were not words for Stanley. 

The package was thrust under Stanley’s nose, crashing him back to reality. LeFou waggled it a little desperately. 

“Open it.”

Stanley took it from him with shaking hands, still staring at him. LeFou’s face could light up the fucking village with how red it was. Not that Stanley was faring much better. 

The paper fell open easily, leaving Stanley holding what was possibly the most beautiful waistcoat he’d ever seen in his life. A silky peach colour with gilt buttons and extravagant embroidery, it was exactly the sort of thing fancy gentlemen wore in the richer towns and cities. He’d always envied ladies and their pretty clothing but he’d never had the courage to wear something so decorative himself. He looked up at LeFou, who rubbed the back of his head with uncertainty. 

“Er, I remember you said you liked some of the Parisian fashion but never had any, so I wanted to, um, give you a piece of it, I guess….”

Stanley clutched the fabric to his chest and blinked back tears. LeFou gasped and clapped a hand to his mouth.

“Oh God you hate it. You hate it I’m so sorry! I can take it back; we can forget this ever happened if you like-”

LeFou didn’t get much farther before Stanley launched himself at him, wrapping his arms around LeFou’s neck and hugging him tightly, the garment flapping in the movement. LeFou stumbled back to take Stanley’s sudden onslaught with a small ‘oof’. Stanley felt arms snake around him and hug him back.

“You don’t hate it then?” LeFou chuckled weakly, patting Stanley’s back. Stanley let out a watery sounding hiccough. 

“It’s beautiful I love it.” He stepped back, wiping his eyes. “How can I repay you?”

LeFou grinned, an open, easy grin that warmed Stanley to his core.

“Think about it as payment for the sugar mouse. And the flowers.”

Remembering that disastrous evening and the headache that followed the following morning, Stanley frowned. “You knew that was me?”

“Well, no, not at first,” LeFou admitted sheepishly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I thought they were for Gaston, I mean, who in their right mind would buy _me_ flowers? Anyway, Tom and Dick told me about two weeks ago.”

“Those little _fu-_ ”

“And it got me thinking,” LeFou hurriedly continued, cutting off whatever tirade Stanley was about to go on about his friends. “I thought a lot about…about _you_ , and, and about me and I was um….well I…..”

Stanley was dead. Stanley was dead and had fucking ascended to Paradise because this was the only explanation for what was happening. Subtly, he pinched himself through his sleeve.

Ouch. No okay. He was definitely awake.

LeFou had apparently given up on what was clearly some sort of rehearsed speech and sighed, tucking his hands in his breeches pockets. They were lavender. It was a good colour.

“Have dinner with me?”

Somewhere, in the back of Stanley’s dumbfounded brain; an entire choir had just jumped up and belted out one big joyous note. He opened his mouth, mind practically screaming at him to say yes. 

“What about Gaston?” was what he said. The choir cut itself off in a pathetic halt. LeFou shrugged a bit too nonchalantly. 

“What about him? He’s still dead set on Belle….personally I think she’s a bit too clever for him….anyway I’m not asking to have dinner with him, I’m asking _you._ ”

Stanley’s mouth finally caught up with his brain. “YES.”

Okay, that was a little too loud judging by LeFou’s surprised blink. 

“G-Good!” LeFou stuttered, grinning from ear to ear. “You free tonight?”

“I am.” 

“Great, I’ll….um, I’ll see you then.”

“LeFou?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

LeFou inhaled sharply, still grinning, and nodded eagerly. Stanley took the cue and grabbed LeFou by the face and kissed him with all the enthusiasm he could muster. There was a muffled laugh from LeFou before he brought his own hands up to grip Stanley’s upper arms. Stanley’s mind was practically exploding. Everything felt so good and nice and _right_ -

A long sharp wolf whistle reached their ears. 

They parted, both a little breathless and Stanley turned to look at the window in despair.

Tom and Dick were at the window to the shop, their noses pressed against the glass. Both were grinning, Dick gave them a huge wink and a thumbs up. LeFou buried his face in his hands as Stanley sprang to action to chase them away, threatening all sorts of anatomically impossible injuries. Rushing back inside he saw LeFou had gone crimson again, still covering his face with his hands.

“Ftwzmortffyng” He wheezed behind his hands. 

“Eh?”

“That was mortifying!” LeFou repeated, raising his head. Stanley put down the waistcoat he had only now realised he still held and went to take hold of LeFou’s hands. 

“I’m sorry about them, they meant no harm really.”

“Ha it’s okay, you showed them.”

“Yes I did.” 

LeFou laughed again and squeezed Stanley’s hands reassuringly, clearly getting over his embarrassment. Stanley couldn’t stop grinning. 

“Maybe you should come have dinner at my house,” LeFou suggested, giving Stanley’s knuckles a swift kiss. “Might be a bit more private.”

“Yeah,” Stanley agreed, head spinning from the bitter smell of chocolate around them. “I’d like that.”


End file.
